Luyện nghe bài hát English Fire

Seven brides serve me sins
Seven writhe for me
From Orient to Rlyeh
Abydos to

And Sirens sing from
But now I to play
For I yearn to to woodland ferns
Herne and his wild huntress lay

Now the tidal are turning, the darkness
The great purgations of tours
Are but in time to the thrill that Im once more
Heading to the of her English shores

The wind bickered in Satanic mill
Eyes flickered in deep thickets of
And mists tight in panic to vales
When Brigantia spoke her to me

From Imbolg to
Lughnasadh to Samhain
I heard her lament as blent
Together a chimerical

Now the tidal are turning in darkness
The celebrations of extinguished
Are but stills in time to the chill that climbs once
Dreading the red weddings on her English

Gone are the rustic of my youth
Cruel winters cut their sacred
With polished scythes reap worldwide
Pitch black and forest smoke

And the hosts that I saw
of carrion law
Drove the of my forbears
To rove and once more

One of her sons the vast far flung
home to rebuild
The line of the Leonine
over pestilent fields

Now the tidal are turning burning in
The of her hungry sword
Shalt spill like wine from the hills to chines that
her beheadings on these English shores

For the hosts that I saw
Drones of law
the ghosts of my forbears
To rove and rally more

This is a waking for
its reticent doze
This is a waking for
Lest hope and glory are as foes